


A Year Less a Day

by clgfanfic



Category: War of the Worlds (TV)
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-21
Updated: 2013-02-21
Packaged: 2017-11-30 00:11:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/693116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clgfanfic/pseuds/clgfanfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kitara promised she'd return, but she didn't say she was bringing another synth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Year Less a Day

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published in the zine Green Floating Weirdness #8 under the pen name Gillian Holt, Laura Brush, and Laura Grigsby.
> 
> This is the sequel to "De-briefing."

_"She had a soul."_

 

          "What's got Harrison so…"  Suzanne paused in the Cottage's basement computer lab, searching for the right word to describe the astrophysicist's recent behavior.

          "Weird?" Ironhorse suggested with a half-grin.  Striding past the scientist to the small corner table, he appropriated a cup and poured himself some coffee.

          " _Wired_ is more like it," Norton countered, intently watching the screen of his computer terminal.  "Pour me one?"

          "Coming up," the soldier replied amicably.

          Suzanne nodded.  "It's like he's building up to some sort of emotional… explosion."

          Ironhorse gave her a quizzical look.  "I don't think it's that bad, Suzanne."

          Drake shrugged.  "The Doc's just a little stressed, but maybe we all should be, huh?"

          The microbiologist frowned.  "Am I missing something?  Besides the overwhelming alien activity we've been having recently?"

          Ironhorse handed a full cup to the computer expert.  "That's usually my line, Doctor."  Suzanne grinned and shook her head as he motioned to the pot.

          "Take a look at this, guys," Drake said after a sip and satisfied sigh.

          The pair moved closer, peering at the screen over Norton's shoulder.  "What is this?" the colonel asked, trying to make sense of the undulating patterns that played randomly across the monitor.

          "That is the flux in the Earth's magnetic field.  Dancing ley lines."

          "And it's making Harrison weirder than normal?" Ironhorse questioned skeptically.

          Norton grinned, his fingers tapping across the keyboard.  "Not exactly, but…"  A date blinked on in the lower right corner of the screen, but the same undulating patterns remained.  "Harrison's had me working on this for about two weeks now… and…"

          "What?" Suzanne asked, a slight edge of exasperation to her voice.  She recanted.  "I mean, why's Harrison so interested in the Earth's magnetic field?  He hasn't said anything to me."

          "I was just getting to that.  This…" Norton said, reaching out to thump the screen, "…is what the field looked like exactly three hundred and sixty-one and a half days ago, and this…"  He tapped the keys again, only the date shifting in the corner, "…is what it looks like, right now.  It's almost exactly the same, and I mean within-less-than-one-percent, the same."

          "So?" Ironhorse prompted.  "What is it, Norton?"

          Norton sighed heavily and shook his head.  "What happened a year ago tomorrow?"

          The coffee in Ironhorse's stomach abruptly turned to a hard lump of ice.  "Kitara," he said softly, the situation coming into sharp focus.  "It's the date we estimated for her first arrival."

          Suzanne's head snapped up, and she stared at the colonel.  "You're right, it _has_ been a year.  I… forgot."

          "A year day after tomorrow," Norton corrected.  "And she said she'd be back _inside_ of a year."

          "With help," Suzanne added.  "No wonder Harrison's been acting so strange.  I should have remembered, but with all the recent activity, it entirely slipped my mind."

          Ironhorse turned, abandoning his cup next to the machine.  "We need to have a talk with Harrison."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          He sat at the edge of the pond, his legs folded under him on the large flat stone he'd found on his first day as a resident of the Cottage.  During those first few months he'd retreated to the location often to escape the others, but over time it slowly ceased to be a place of withdrawal, becoming instead a place to gather his thoughts or sort through problems.

          Fingering the same smooth, flat stone that he had fastidiously picked out of the damp ground nearly an hour earlier, the scientist tried to quell the fear that continued to build in every nook and cranny of his being.

          Kitara would be back.  He knew it.

          And she would have another of her kind.

          She and her companion might have already returned and begun killing Mor'taxans while he sat and did nothing…  Not that he had the slightest idea what that 'something' might be, or any objections to the nature of the Synth's activity, but…

          Kitara…

Synthetic beings…

Living artificial intelligence…

          She was something more, and something less, than human.

          No human, no living being with a soul, could have done what she had to Paul, he thought angrily.  Mind rape, the Army psychologist had called it.

          The aftermath had propelled all of them through hell, but Paul had put the violation in perspective, and dealt with it.[1]  He had gone on.

          _So why can't I?_ Blackwood asked himself, and again failed to find an answer.

He watched the Cottage's lone swan glide silently across the still water.  _Is this the beginning of another war?_ he silently asked the bird.  _Are we going to have to fight the Mor'taxans_ and _the Synths now?  How can we possibly win?  They'll destroy the planet, and us right along with them.  If we could just reason with one of them…_

          The sounds of grass-muted footsteps stilled the depressing chain of thoughts and Blackwood flung the rock out, skipping it across the water, where it sank near the middle.

          "Harrison?"

          He didn't turn around.  "Yes, Colonel?"

          "We need to talk."

          A hand descended on his shoulder, and Harrison felt the fingers squeeze.

          "Why didn't you say something earlier?" Ironhorse asked.

          "So we could all worry together?  You have enough on your mind with all the recent activity."

          "Sometimes it's better to worry.  I think I… wanted to forget."

          Paul stepped around him and extended a hand.  Harrison accepted the offer, allowing Ironhorse to tug him to his feet.  "God, Paul… I'm scared."

          The flicker of the black eyes away increased Harrison's fear, and the softly whispered, "Me, too," didn't help either.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          "…but what _can_ we do?" Blackwood implored the other three Project members as he paced the space in front of the living room couch.  "You saw what Kitara did to the aliens.  She's armed, and dangerous.  My God, she's got nuclear weapons!"

          "But she's programmed _not_ to harm humans," Suzanne countered, pulling her feet up so they wouldn't be trampled on.  "That gives us an advantage, at least for now.  If we could study her—"

          "We have no guarantees that directive won't be… corrected this time around," Ironhorse cut in, his voice overly controlled.  Sitting in the wing-backed chair closest to the cold hearth, he stared intently into his half-empty coffee cup.

          "But she's got no way of knowing you beat her mind-block, Colonel," Norton argued, rolling Gertrude out of Harrison's pace-track – and Suzanne complained about him?  "So there's no reason for her to suspect that we know what they're really after."

          "And if she decides to check?" the colonel countered.

          "Maybe we _can_ reason with Kitara and her people.  If we try," Blackwood stated, coming to a momentary pause in front of the cold fireplace.  "If she defeats the Mor'taxans, now, it might stop the second invasion Quinn said was coming."

          "But what if she does know we've discovered the truth, or suspects, or just doesn't give a damn, Harrison?"  Ironhorse's head came up.  "We can't risk it.  We have to assume that Kitara and whatever _machine_ she drags along are as dangerous as the aliens we've been fighting, as dangerous as the ones who are coming – maybe more so.  We know the Mor'taxans don't have nuclear weapons."

          "And rule out any chance for a dialogue?" Blackwood snapped, his voice climbing.  "Paul, we're facing another invasion in the near future.  _Millions_ more.  I doubt even two Synths could take on that many.  If we can negotiate a peace with Kitara's people—"

          The colonel turned hardened eyes on the scientist, cutting him off.  "You've seen the kind of dialogue Kitara's interested in, Doctor.  It's entirely one-sided."

          "Paul's right," Suzanne said, leaning forward to enforce her point.  "She's _not_ our friend.  She and her… creators don't belong here anymore than the Mor'taxans.  I for one don't want to end up some alien's… cow!"

          Blackwood's glare shifted from the colonel to Suzanne.

          "Look, arguing isn't getting us anywhere," Norton said, trying to calm the choppy emotional waters.  "She hasn't come back, and there's only—"

          A burst of music interrupted the hacker and four heads swiveled in unison to stare in the direction of the stairs.

          " _What_ is that?" Suzanne asked.

          "Rap," Norton responded seriously.  "I rigged up a different tune in case—"

          "In case Kitara returned," Blackwood finished his voice echoing with hollow hopelessness.

          "'Fraid so, Doc."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Above an empty hilltop outside Carson City, Nevada, a swirl of color and light wove itself into a large disc that hung shimmering just above the grass-covered knoll.

          Extending down from the nearby Sierra Nevada mountains, hugging around the hill and the surrounding countryside, a thunderstorm continued, undisturbed by the unusual phenomenon.

          A beam of intensely bright light dropped from the disc to contact the earth, then sprang back, a flash of lightning lashing out at the same time, competing for a moment to blind any onlookers who might have witnessed the strange event.

          The maelstrom of color and light blinked out, leaving behind two figures and the growl of thunder.

          The two women standing side by side on the hilltop were well built in a feminine yet athletic way.  They were also a study in contrasts; a yin and yang of femininity.  Kitara, her long black hair falling over the same black bodysuit and calf-length brown coat she had worn on her first mission to Earth, presented a more chilling vision than her companion.

          The Second had over-short gold-blond hair and a long white leather duster, and cut an imminently more approachable figure.  The deep forest-green bodysuit she wore under the coat shimmered where it was visible in the strobing light from the storm.

Kitara raised her hand and engaged her communications device.  "Arrival complete.  Beginning mission.  Day one."  The commlink faded, and she turned to her companion.  "We must locate the human called Paul Ironhorse."

          The blonde Synth replied, "And the Advocacy, to destroy them."

          "Yes," Kitara acknowledged, the slightest trace of pleasure staining her voice.  She looked over the landscape, her head tilting distractedly.  "This is in-correct."

          The Second made the same examination.  "We have arrived at an alternate location."

          "We must gather information."

          The blonde blinked and nodded her acknowledgement to Kitara as an odd jolt of energy surged through her circuits.  The unknown sensation registered, but she could find no cause for it in an initial scan of her internal sensors.

          "A-greed."

          The pair stalked off the hill, uncaring of the rain that pelted their overcoats.  Kitara contacted the Masters as they proceeded, informing them of the mishap.

          The Second reviewed the data files on Paul Ironhorse, retrieved from Kitara and downloaded to her memory before the mission.  She scanned the information on Earth and the familiar Mor'taxan enemy she had faced on other planets.  When the analysis was completed she began a diagnostic.

          That evaluation concluded, the Second reached an impasse.  Nothing accounted for the new readings she still monitored.  Filing them away for continued examination later, she followed Kitara toward the lights in the near distance.  They would reach the human population cluster in one hour seventeen minutes as the humans measured time.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          "Where is she?" Blackwood asked, leaning over Norton's shoulder and staring intently at the computer monitor.

          "I'm workin' as fast as I can, Doc," Norton muttered, trying to coax the Cray to speed up its analysis and cross referencing tasks.

          Suzanne and Ironhorse stood back, waiting.  They exchanged a brief glance, and the microbiologist was sure she saw something in the colonel's eyes she had never seen before… terror.  She shivered uncontrollably and folded her arms over her chest, her fingers absently rubbing her chest where she had been shot the first time Kitara visited.  The time she'd… died.

          "There!" Norton said, sitting back and forcing Blackwood to straighten.  "It's an unpopulated area just northeast of Carson City, Nevada."

          "Not the fairgrounds?" Blackwood questioned more to himself than the hacker.  He paced off several steps, then stopped and folded his arms tight across his chest.  "Okay, that makes sense.  We might have been watching the fairgrounds, waiting for her."

"Why should she care?" Suzanne asked, then added sarcastically, "She's our friend."

          "You're sure it's Kitara?" Ironhorse asked, taking Blackwood's place behind Drake.

          The microbiologist frowned as her question was seemingly dismissed.

          "The flux in the magnetic readings is damned near one-hundred percent, big guy.  It _wasn't_ a meteorite."

          "The minor difference in the readings might be due to the presence of a second Synth," Blackwood offered.

          " _If_ there's a second," the colonel countered.

          "I hope he's wrong, too, Paul, but I don't think we should count on it," Suzanne reluctantly admitted.  "We'd better assume that she has a friend and that they're both armed…"  She looked pointedly at Blackwood.  "And dangerous."

          "I'll arrange the transportation," Ironhorse said, stepping up to Suzanne and taking her shoulders in his hands.  "I want you to stay with Debi, Norton and an Omega detachment.  They'll take all of you to a safe house I don't know about."

          "But—"

          "Please," he interrupted, uncharacteristically prefacing the explanation.  "She got you killed once.  I _don't_ want to risk a repeat.  We might not be so lucky.  And I know she knows where the Cottage is."

          "He's right, Suzanne," Harrison concurred.

          "All right," she agreed reluctantly.  "But I don't have to like it."  Looking at Blackwood, she asked, "And you?"

          Before he could comment, Ironhorse cut in.  "Harrison, I'd like you to go with them, too, but I suppose that's too much to hope for?"

          "You know me too well, Colonel," Harrison said, patting Ironhorse on the shoulder as he walked past him on the way to grab his backpack.  "I'll be ready in five."

          "That's what I thought," Ironhorse muttered, walking over to pick up the phone and punch the intercom for the coach house.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          "Remember nothing," Kitara commanded, the palm of her hand striking the woman's forehead.

          The only witness to the destruction of three Mor'taxans concealed in their human hosts, the petite aerobics instructor fell back against the wall of the parking garage, sliding down to rest in an semiconscious heap.  She moaned.

          "You have harmed the female," the blonde stated.  "She is in pain."

          "We must find other Mor'taxans.  Their leaders will come."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          The mobile phone lying between the two men on the Bronco's front seat rang.  Harrison looked away from the rolling scrubland and to his companion.  Ironhorse nodded.

          "Talk to me, Norton."

"Doc, listen, I just picked this up on the National Crime Network.  Six people were killed in Carson City, Nevada.  And another three in a little town called Truckee near the California-Nevada border.  _And_ , the descriptions of the bodies fit.  It's our aliens.  Looks like Kitara's headed west."

          "Got it; we'll head for Carson City and Truckee next," Harrison told him.  "We didn't find anything concrete at the landing sight, just some higher ambient radiation readings."

          "Keep in touch, okay?" Suzanne's voice asked.  "Oh, and tell Paul Debi says hello…  And this place needs a better coffee maker if we're going to be stuck here, waiting."

          "Will do."

          "Well?" Ironhorse asked after the astrophysicist laid the phone back on the seat.

          "Suzanne doesn't like the accommodations… but Norton said, Truckee.  It seems Kitara's beginning her hunt.  Six in Carson City, three in Truckee.  We'll be able to follow the trail of alien bodies to her and any other Synth she might've brought along."

          The colonel nodded, his fingers cramping tighter on the steering wheel.

          "Still convinced we have to go in shooting?"

          "You have any better ideas?" Ironhorse asked, his eyes never leaving the road.

          "Talk, Paul.  We talk to her, try to make her understand that we just want to be left in peace."

          "My people tried that for four hundred years, Harrison.  Those in power never listened.  We've been over this.  She's a machine.  How can you reason with a machine?"

          Harrison turned so he could look at Ironhorse.  "Paul, as a species we're only beginning to understand the possibilities inherent in artificial intelligence.  We can't assume that Kitara and her kind are simple, unthinking collections of wires and computer chips.  We have 'smart' computers now, here.  A synthetic, cybernetic being like Kitara is light years beyond what we can understand."

          "Exactly my point," the colonel argued, glancing sideways.  "We don't know what she's capable of, but we _do_ know why she's here.  We find her, I call in Omega and we blow her and her friend back to where they came from."

          "I know she's a threat, but wouldn't it be irresponsible if we didn't at least make some kind of effort to talk to her and her… creators?  We do share a common enemy."

          The one eyebrow Blackwood could see elevated.  "Do we?  Or are the Mor'taxans simply competitors for a highly prized commodity?"

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          The second Synth walked beside Kitara, but she was no longer focused on the mission.  The energies emanating from the humans she passed distracted her, their auras ebbing and flowing in ever-changing intensities and diversity.  It was overwhelming, and not at all the clear, nondescript energy signature the Mor'taxans gave off in their human shells.

          The incoming information nearly overloaded the Second, and she found herself forced to screen out those energies too painful to assimilate.

          _Painful?_ she thought, her confusion growing.  _I feel no pain.  I should not be confused…  I should not be thinking this…  What is happening to me?_

          A particularly strong flux caused the Second to focus across the street on a small female child standing near an adult of the same sex.  The Second sensed the small human's fear – her companion was arguing with another, older female.  Trying to step away from the adults, the child was caught by the hand and yanked back.  She began to cry.

          The Synth was drawn to the teary creature before she even realized she'd left Kitara's side.  Kneeling before the small girl, the Second smiled, tilting her head to one side as the child's energy shifted to something that was not fear, but the Synth had no name for it.  She searched the patterns stored from Paul Ironhorse, comparing his energy emanations with those from the child, and concluded the small female was curious.

          "Who— Who are you?" the girl asked in a whisper.

          "I am… Keleah."

          "Lady, whatdaya think you're doin'?" the child's mother snapped.

          This female was angry.  Keleah was familiar with that energy pattern.  Paul Ironhorse had projected a strong anger.

          "She was, frightened," Keleah stated matter-of-factly.  "Why do you frighten the child?"

          "Look, lady, I don't know who the hell you are, but you better get outta here.  Leave me and my kid alone."

          "Come," Kitara said, her hand descending to rest on the Second's shoulder.  She addressed the woman.  "We will go."

          The child's mother stared at Kitara, and took an involuntary step backward.  Fear again.  Keleah stood, but smiled at the child, who smiled back.  With a small nod, the Second turned and continued on her mission.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Harrison stalked into the comfortable hotel room, shoving his bag into the first empty chair he found.  Proceeding to the large window, he pulled the curtains back and stared out into the Placerville parking lot.

          Ironhorse followed Blackwood in, carrying his bag to the luggage stand waiting in the walk-in closet and depositing it there.  He rummaged in the duffel for a moment.  Stepping out, he spared one glance at Harrison before mumbling, "I'm taking a shower," and disappeared into the bathroom.

          Stripping out of his travel-creased clothes, he waited for the water to get hot.  When the steam started to curl up and over the top of the curtain, Paul pulled it open and stepped in.

Easing under the pelting spray, he bowed his head and closed his eyes, letting the heat seep into his dully aching muscles.  It felt good.  Safe and warm, and there were times Ironhorse wondered if he would ever really feel safe again.

          He'd seen so much war.  Death and cruelty were familiar specters, but aliens… they scared the shit out of him.  Sure they'd managed to hold their own, but for how much longer?  After millions more arrived?

          He shivered under the hot water.  Fear was a constant companion… fear that kept creeping into his soul like a cold wind through a cracked window.  Mor'taxans…  Synths…

          Kitara.

          Could he face her?  Could he stop Kitara from violating him a second time?

          There was no choice.  He had a mission, a duty to carry out…  He had to try.  He'd learned a lot since her first visit, embracing things he'd never expected to make a part of his life.  But now they were…

          He stepped back and scooped up the soap.  His grandfather had told him he couldn't deny his heritage, and he'd been right.  As much as Paul wanted to deny his abilities, he was a shaman of sorts, and that was the only thing he had to use against Kitara.

          _Grandfather, give me courage_ , he asked silently.  _Please._

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Keleah followed behind Kitara, reviewing the information downloaded from the latter again.  Some of the data on Paul Ironhorse that had made no sense when she'd first reviewed the files outside Carson City was now intelligible.  Fragmented bits and pieces were still indecipherable, but more of the sequence was clear.

          It frightened her.

          The new rubric of emotions and feelings Ironhorse had experienced startled the Second.  If they were true, then Kitara had done the human harm.  That went against their programming.  They were not permitted to harm the humans unless they uncovered their destiny under Qar'toan rule.  The Masters could not be stopped nor interfered with.

          There were still some things in his thoughts that made no sense to her.  There was something missing, something still necessary to unlock the code of the last undecipherable segments.  If she could just find it…

          She abruptly shut the thought off.  What she was doing could be considered treason.  She had no authority to question Kitara or the Masters.  She had a mission.  What was to ultimately become of the humans was of no concern to her… if the probe caused them harm, it was unintentional.  It was necessary to carry out the Masters' wishes.

          Still, she could not force the fear and nagging doubts away…

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Blackwood paced across the small hotel room they presently occupied while investigating the latest reports in Modesto, California.  The alien body count continued to grow, and with it the two men's uneasiness.  The tally was up to forty-seven dead in twelve towns and cities, all part of the mining industry in the Sierra Nevadas.  Now she seemed to be headed into California's central valley.

          "Harrison, we're not getting ahead of these reports," Ironhorse argued from his seat on one of the two beds in the hotel room.  He stared at Blackwood.  "We have other things that have to be done…"  He trailed off, unsure if the scientist was listening to him.  "At least Kitara's destroying the enemy," he concluded with a frustrated sigh.  "Are you hearing any of this?"

          The light trill of the mobile phone stilled Blackwood's response.  "Phone," he announced unnecessarily, reaching for the instrument.

          "Doc?"

          "Yes, Norton, what have you got?"

          "Trouble, if I'm any judge."

          "Explain," the astrophysicist urged, dropping down to sit on the second bed.

          "I'm picking up transmissions from the _same_ warehouse Kitara grabbed the colonel from last year.  What do you think it means?"

          "Trouble."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          The military commander approached his leaders cautiously.  They had been in foul spirits of late.  "Advocates, we are receiving a communication from the California coast."

          "California coast?" the female member of the triumvirate questioned.  "We have no operations there at this time.  Our efforts have been inland."

          "The communication originates from the same location where the humans and the Synth attempted to lure us into their trap a year ago," the commander explained.

          "The Synth?" the older male echoed.  "That could explain why several of our field units have failed to report at the appointed time."

          "Will we never be rid of that menace?" the younger male asked.  "Those from Qar'to want these humans as their next food source, then they will strip the planet of its natural resources.  They cannot be allowed to destroy what will one day be our home.  The home of those who come, and the Eternal.  We will live life immortal, here."

          "Send a unit," the female Advocate commanded.  "We must see who is at this warehouse, and if the humans are foolish enough to enter into an alliance with those from Qar'to."

          The commander bowed and backed away.  He would see to it he did not repeat the same mistakes his predecessor had when the Synth first arrived.  He had no desire to join the former commander in eternal afterlife.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Kitara stood, surveying the alien enemy who lay scattered and decomposing across the dusty warehouse floor.  "The Advocacy do not come.  We will find Ironhorse."

          "Ironhorse," Keleah replied.  Kitara was the mission commander, and as Second, she was programmed to follow any orders Kitara might give.  "The Mor'taxans we have destroyed will tell him you have re-turned."

          Kitara nodded mechanically.  "Yes.  I had thought he would be here."

          Keleah leaned back against one of the walls.  "We wait."

          "No.  We go to that location where the Advocacy was lured out be-fore."  Kitara tilted her head slightly.  "He will come.  Perhaps the Advocacy will come as well."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Except for the scattered remains of six aliens, there was nothing of interest in the warehouse.  Ironhorse forced back a chill and continued his sweep through the semi-darkness.  Completed and half-completed stuffed creations watched his movement with staring, vacant eyes.  The déjà vu feeling he'd been experiencing grew stronger.  Something was going to break, sooner or later.

          The muffled warble of the mobile phone announced sooner.

          "Ironhorse here," the colonel said after pulling the instrument free of his jacket pocket.

          "Stavrakos, Colonel.  We have activity at the Fairgrounds."

          "She's at the fairgrounds," the colonel called to Blackwood, then lifted the phone back to talk to Stavrakos, continuing, "We're on our way, Sergeant.  Contact Omega C and have them report to the fairgrounds after they finish with the cleanup here.  Keep the building under surveillance, but do not, repeat, _do not_ engage.  If the aliens show up, let 'em in."

          "Yes, sir."

          "Let's go, Harrison!"

          Blackwood joined Ironhorse as the colonel jogged for the door.  Outside, they headed directly for the truck.

          Tossing the phone onto the Bronco's seat, Ironhorse climbed behind the wheel.  Six days and they'd followed a trail of dead aliens from Carson City back to San Francisco.  Six days he'd fought the gnawing fear that clawed at his gut.  But no more.  The waiting was over.  Now he'd face her… face his terror.  She would not violate his mind a second time…

          "How long?" Harrison asked, sliding into the passenger seat.

          Ironhorse was already pulling away as the scientist tugged the door closed.  "Forty-five minutes.  Omega will remain in defensive positions."

          "Then what?"

"Then we do what we have to, Harrison."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Keleah sensed the blended alien enemy as they approached the outskirts of the fairgrounds.  "Those from Mortax are here," she announced.

          "Yes," Kitara replied.  "But the Advocacy is not among them.  They are too a-fraid."  The Synth pivoted.  "Ironhorse will come.  He must not be harmed.  Clear the building, and go to the roof."

          "Yes," Keleah replied.  Watching her commander go, the Synth turned and proceeded further into the large, airy building that was still under construction.  Her battle hum sang to life, and she felt a shiver of anticipation for the coming battle.  The expectation was a new sensation, and one she was not at all sure she liked.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Standing outside the building, the woman glanced up at the impressive structure.  "We have them, Advocate," the envoy announced into her portable radio.  The military commander had failed to destroy the Synths at the warehouse.  It was now up to her to exterminate the miserable creatures.  "The Synth are at the fairgrounds, as you anticipated.  There are two of the loathsome creatures."

          "You have the disrupter weapon.  Destroy them, and bring their worthless remains to us," the female commanded.

          "We are nothing without your counsel," the envoy intoned.  "To life immortal."

          "To life immortal," the triumvirate echoed.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          "Holy sh—"  Norton broke off, grabbing up the phone and  punching out the number to the mobile.  It rang, but no one answered.

          "What?" Suzanne asked, moving over to join the black man at the computer screen.  She still wasn't used to the new safe house, and the unfamiliar surroundings had left her jumpy and irritable.

          "The Synth are at the fairgrounds.  Omega called.  Looks like everybody's going to this shindig and I can't reach Harrison and Ironhorse to tell them they've got more party crashers on the way.  I just picked up some short bursts from the aliens."  He tossed his pen down, the instrument bouncing off the table top and onto the floor.

          Suzanne folded her arms across her chest and forced the wave of panic down.  "Most of Omega Squad's already there, they should be able to deal with the aliens…"  She trailed off.  It sounded hollow even to her ears.

          "I hope you're right," was Norton's half-hearted reply.  "I really hate this sometimes."

          "Me, too," the microbiologist concurred.  A sly smile cut across her face.  "But…"

"What?" Norton asked, his own smile already growing.  "Doc, what you're thinkin' could get us in some serious trouble."

          She shrugged.

          "You're right," he announced, swinging his wheelchair around and heading for the door.  "Gertrude, to the action!"

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          "As you predicted, the aliens figured this out, too," Blackwood said as he followed the colonel to cover.  All around them gunfire echoed through the building, mingled with the Synth's unmistakable sound.

          The Mor'taxans, Omegans and Synths exchanged fire in a massive battle for survival, and the deja vu feeling was uncanny for the two Project members.  The Synths were there to destroy the aliens.  So was Omega, and if the two paired up for the time being, that was fine.  But, when the aliens were dead, they'd deal with Kitara and her companion.

          Ironhorse scanned the open space, then crossed with Harrison following.  They reached the stairs leading to the roof.  A quick check and the colonel started to the first landing.  Two more flights and they would be on the roof.

          Uzi in one hand, he raised the radio to his lips with the other and depressed the switch.  "Red Leader to Red One, what's your situation, over?"

          The radio cracked and Stavrakos's voice echoed back, accompanied by the sound of automatic weapon fire.  "It's hot here, sir.  I'd say another ten to fifteen before we have 'em cleaned out."

          "Roger, Red One," Ironhorse said.  "Red Two, report, over."

          "Red Leader, this is Red Two," Coleman's crisp voice replied.  "All secure here, sir.  Repeat.  All clear on the ground floor."

          The radio crackled.  "Second floor clear, sir."

          "Third floor clear, sir."

          It made sense that the men blocking the exit to the fairgrounds were getting the worst of the fight.  The Mor'taxans had appeared to be in retreat when they'd arrived, but the activation of Omega Squad had forced many of the aliens back into the building, and the fight had continued.

          "Roger.  Red Three, leave a guard and assist Red One.  Red Four, clear the roof," the colonel ordered, his eyes carefully scanning the area for enemy movement.

          "Roger, Red Leader," Coleman replied, already calling out the orders before she released the key on her radio.

          Blackwood leaned against the wall next to Ironhorse, finally catching his breath.  Paul had wanted him to stay behind in the Bronco, guarded and safe, but Harrison was determined that if Paul ran into Synths or aliens, it wasn't going to be alone.  Now he was regretting that decision.

          Unwilling to risk Harrison in open confrontation, Ironhorse had taken them away from the fiercest of the fighting.  However, the Mor'taxans were tenacious and occasionally skillful, and they had encountered several of the aliens alone, or in groups of twos or threes as they negotiated their way through the building.  Ironhorse had dispatched all the blended invaders with calm, careful efficiency, but he was running low on ammunition, and on luck.

          While the soldiers continued their fight, Blackwood and the colonel looked for Kitara.  Once the Mortaxans were neutralized, Ironhorse planned to call in the Omegans and capture or destroy the android and her helper.

          The odd humming the two Project members associated with the Synth continued to echo around them, causing Ironhorse to break out in a cold sweat.  "You hear that?"

          "Yeah," Harrison replied tightly.  "She sounds closer."

          Ironhorse nodded.  "Follow me," he instructed, easing into a crouch and making his way along the wall to the second landing.  Pausing at the corner, they checked the next flight and then moved up to the last landing.

          A short flight of ten steps led to a door that opened on the roof.

          Ironhorse stepped onto the landing and reached out to push Harrison back against the wall.  He nodded to a small service room, then crept forward, Blackwood following.

          In the small room, Keleah sank into a crouch, her hands snapping out.  The move, unlike Kitara's more dramatic mode of attack, reminded Ironhorse of someone hurling shurikin, the deadly throwing stars popular in the Orient and among Kung Fu film enthusiasts.  But what she threw was more deadly than the pointed metal pieces, and the two remaining aliens fell under her assault.

          Before Harrison could whisper the words trying to push their way out of his mouth, he was startled by Ironhorse's quick spin, and Uzi snapping up.

          "Re—"  Kitara stopped in mid-motion, realizing that she had lost the opportunity to seize the human she sought.

          Harrison was sure he hadn't heard anything.  So how had Paul known she was there?

          Stepping back, Kitara presented her hands, palms up.  "I am, your friend," she said.  "Doctor, Harrison Blackwood, Lieutenant Colonel, Paul Ironhorse.  I have re-turned.  I have brought another."

          "Colonel," Blackwood whispered when Paul's weapon remained trained on Kitara.

          Stepping away from the doorway, Ironhorse pressed back against the wall so the second Synth could not surprise him.

          The scientist noted the film of sweat on Paul's face and the faint tremor that shook the hands that had been steady only moments before.

          "Back off," Ironhorse hissed at the android through clenched teeth.

          Kitara took a step away.  "I am, your friend," she repeated.  "Those that you fear are de-stroyed."

The radio clicked and Ironhorse reached down to free it from his web belt.  "Red Leader."

          "This is Red One, Red Leader," Stavrakos said.  "We're all secure, Colonel.  All bogies are down.  Repeat, all bogies are down."

          "The roof is secure, sir," Coleman added.

          "Roger, Red One.  Start a cleanup, double time.  And send a guard, we have the Synths."

          "Yes, sir," Coleman replied.

          "Call your partner in here," Ironhorse instructed Kitara, slipping the radio back onto his belt.

          "You are a-fraid," Kitara said.

          Ironhorse reached up to clutch the Uzi with both hands.  "I said, call her in here," he repeated in a low growl.

          "Paul, this isn't—"

          Ironhorse cut him off with a brief shake of his head.

          "Keleah.  Come," Kitara said.

          The blonde Synth walked through the doorway to join them.  Passing Ironhorse, she felt the fear and anger surrounding the man and paused, her eyes searching his face.  There was something more, but she could not process the multiple emotions that overloaded her circuits and identify them all.

          "With her," the colonel said, motioning Keleah to join her commander.  The Second complied.

          "Do not fear me, human.  I am, your friend.  We will help you.  We will kill those from planet Mor'tax."

          "Kitara," Harrison said, his voice imploring.  "If we could talk to your creators.  Those who sent you here to help us—"

          "You can-not."

          "If we could talk, together—"

          Kitara took another step back, a high pitched buzz accompanying the move and causing Blackwood's hands to fly up to cover his ears.  Ironhorse tried to resist, but dropped the Uzi before he could get off a shot.  Stepping forward, Kitara struck the colonel's forehead, causing him to collapse to the ground.  Blackwood followed next.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Norton braked to a stop in the nearly empty parking lot of the fairgrounds, stopping next to one of the Omega troop-vans.  Coleman broke away from a group of the Special Forces soldiers and trotted over to meet them as he and Suzanne exited the Green Machine.

          "Mr. Drake, Dr. McCullough," she said stiffly.  "You were supposed to wait at the safe house."

          "What's going on?" Suzanne asked, ignoring their breach of security.

          Norton glanced around.  It looked like the cleanup was done, but the soldiers were still making sweeps.  "Where're Harrison and the colonel?" he asked.

          Coleman shifted uncomfortably and shook her head.  "We don't know."

"Don't know?" Suzanne asked, her voice climbing slightly.

          "The aliens were destroyed," she explained.  "The colonel called for a security team.  He said they had the Synths.  When we arrived at his location, he and Dr. Blackwood were gone."

          "And the Synths?" Norton asked, already knowing the answer.

          "Gone, too."

          "Damn," Drake breathed, catching Suzanne's eye.  The microbiologist looked pale.  "You're searching for them?"

          "Of course… well, for some clue as to where the Synths took them," the blonde sergeant corrected.  "They aren't here."

          "Did you find anything?" Norton asked.

          Coleman shook her head.  "Not yet."

          "And you won't.  We're going to have to wait, just like we did for Paul," Suzanne said.

          "But he and Harrison don't know where we are," Norton reminded her.

          "And I'd feel a whole lot better if you'd both go back to that location and wait," Coleman added.

          Suzanne and Norton locked gazes.  There was a nearly imperceptible shake of the microbiologist's head.

          Norton looked at the pretty sergeant.  "No can do, Norah.  The best bet we have of getting them back safe is to play out this hand the way the Synth want us to.  We're going back to the Cottage."

          "Mr. Drake—"

          "I'm sorry," Suzanne interrupted.  "But that's the way it's going to be."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Ironhorse woke to an upside-down view of a cheap hotel room.  This was _not_ how he wanted to start his day.  He blinked and tried to shut out the powerful roaring sound in his ears.  A pair of black boots entered his field of vision.

          Kitara.

          He heard her hands clap, and he immediately fell to the carpeted floor.  With a grunt, he rolled, coming up on his feet in a crouch, hands raised to defend himself.  The android gave him a pointed look and clapped again.

          He was on his back, frozen in place, but now he could see Harrison, still suspended upside-down in the opposite corner of the room.  The second Synth stood next to the scientist, watching.

          "I have re-turned," Kitara said.  "We will rid this planet of those you fear."

          "Then what do you need us for?"

          Kitara circled around him.  "You will tell me how the battle has gone.  You will tell me what you have learned.  What has occurred between you and those from planet Mortax.  You will tell me all."

          "We're holding our own," Ironhorse said.  "We haven't found the Advocacy."

          "We.  Will.  See."

She clapped and Ironhorse was released from the rigger.  Scrambling to his feet, he backed away, trying to focus his mind to build an impenetrable barricade to her probe.

          Kitara followed after him.

          There was nowhere to run.  She could freeze him in his tracks in a heartbeat.

          Ironhorse stopped, retreating in his mind to the place he'd found to fight from.  His safe place, Major Cathcart had called it, and Dr. Ridge had taught him how to fortify.[2]  Now he'd see how safe it really was.  He wasn't sure he was ready, but there was no choice.  He could not allow her to probe his mind and uncover the truth – that he knew what the Qar'to planned for mankind.

          Help me, Grandfather, he pleaded silently, letting himself slip into the place that was not a place.

          Kitara interrupted the lack of flight as surrender and stepped up next to him.

          Ironhorse felt the alien energy radiating from her.  The weird hum filled the room as she stepped behind him.  Her fingers brushed the back of his neck and he felt his body dropped to its knees, but he floated free.

          Her aura engulfed him, her hands descended, sliding along the top of his shoulders and pressing up against the sides of his neck.

          Ironhorse ignored the pressing feeling in his thoughts, concentrating on the chant he'd chosen to focus himself.  With a final call to his animal guides he settled in to wait for what was sure to come.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          "Twelve hours," Suzanne stated unnecessarily as she walked to the wing-backed chair setting next to the fireplace and sank down in it, curling into the corner.  "Where are they?"

          Norton, seated on the couch with several magazines scattered over the cushions, looked up.  "I wish I knew.  It was twenty-four hours before the big guy found his way home the first time.  We've got to give them another twelve… at least."

          Suzanne nodded.  "I just hate sitting here, wondering what's happening…"  Their gazes met.  "I don't know if Paul can survive a repeat of the—"

          "Yeah, I know what you mean."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Kitara's eyes sparkled with an eerie brightness.  Smiling over Ironhorse's head, she nodded at Harrison.  "Probe him," she commanded Keleah before turning her attention back to the soldier kneeling before her.

          The Second nodded and regarded Blackwood.  Something about the situation did not register correctly, and she performed a quick scan even as she clapped to release the man.  Harrison fell heavily to the floor and she bent to help him stand, recognizing the irregularity.  She was angry.

          That was impossible.

          "What are you doing?" Blackwood snapped, catching sight of Kitara and Paul.  He lunged toward the pair.

          Keleah clapped, freezing the astrophysicist in place.  "You cannot interfere."

          "She's hurting him!" Harrison tried to yell.

          "Kitara probes your colonel."  She clapped again.

          Blackwood turned a seething glare on the Second, and she felt the tidal wave of hate and anger.

          "And you plan to do the same to me?"

          She nodded once.  Stepping behind Harrison, she clapped and he fell to his knees.  His aura shifted, fear replacing the anger.  Settling her hands in place, Keleah manipulated the scientist's head forward and back, unblocking his energy flow and making her entry into his mind easier.

          She started to issue the command that would part his conscious defenses, but found the words trapped in her throat.

          She could not.  It was wrong.

          The fear and hatred were wrong.

          But she must probe him.  Kitara had given her the command.

          Not this way.

          She broke contact and stepped around Blackwood.  Reaching out, she touched his elbow and helped him stand.

          "I want to know what has transpired in your war against those from planet Mor'tax.  Will you permit me to share your memories and know these things?"

          "Why are you asking?" Harrison growled.  "Why not just take them?  That's what you people do, isn't it?"

          "I…"  She stopped, unable to offer an explanation.  "I do not know.  Will you permit the review?"

          "Will you take anything else?" Harrison asked, wishing he could see over her shoulder to Paul and Kitara.  Somehow he doubted that Kitara had made the same request.  He had to do something.  He had to help Paul.  The debriefing Kitara's first probe had prompted had nearly killed him... and strained their relationship almost to the breaking point.

          "No."

          He had to make a decision – now.  "I trust you," Harrison said.  "God knows why, but I do."

          Keleah stepped closer.  Reaching out, she took his hand and positioned his fingers so that the first and third were extended, the second and fourth curled under against his palm.  She pointed to her forehead.

          "Place your fingers here and you will see what I do."

Harrison reached out and pressed his fingertips lightly to the Second's forehead.  Surprised, he realized that the skin was warm to the touch.  He saw her hand come up, her fingers in the same position, and she pressed them against his forehead.  An odd jolt of energy sparked across his nerves.

          Suddenly she was in his mind, the sensation causing him to sway.  She reached out with her free hand and steadied him, waiting until he adjusted to the feeling before proceeding.

          + Think back to when Kitara was here before, + her voice echoed softly in his mind.

          It sounded like a mantra, and he felt the memories bubbling up.  They rolled and tumbled in a swirling tangle of images, feelings, and sensations.  There was no language, no words, just the impressions and images, all moving too quickly for him to make logical sense of them.

          Now and again he felt himself censor something, although what it was he couldn't determine.  Keleah accepted the action, watching as black bubbles rose from the frothing jumble of information and disappeared.

          Before he realized they had started, it was over.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          The attack was sudden and violent.  Ironhorse couldn't see his foe, but he could sense her all around him.  The sky of his safe place darkened menacingly and thunder growled in the distance.  He ducked into the trees and ran.

          Lightning exploded above him, but Ironhorse ignored it.  He had nothing to fear from the spirits of the sky and storm.  Not here.

          Reaching the clearing in the pine and mixed hardwood forest, he leaped easily over a three-foot tall ring of stacked stones, landing in the large open circle the stones carved out in a clearing.  Four lodge-pole pine trunks lying on the ground pointed to the compass points from a fire pit at the center of the open space.  Where each trunk touched the circle, an animal skull sat on the stones – silent sentinels, staring out vigilantly at the forest.

          In the central pit, a fire burned fiercely, the dancing orange and red flames casting a warm glow over Ironhorse.  A small crooked smile lifted his lips and he moved closer to the flames, standing next to the pit.  The forest shimmered with power.  This was _his_ place.

          He looked down at the soft moccasins he wore.  They disappeared under tiger-stripped cammo fatigue pants like he'd worn in Vietnam.  A simple deer-leather shirt completed the outfit, except for the Army web©belt snugged around his waist – the tomahawk and battle baton resting on it in their sheaths.  The mix of military and Native was not lost on him.  It was proper.  He had accepted the mingling of his two paths.  He was ready.  Succeed or fail, there was nothing more he could do.

          A snap of a hawthorn twig altered him to Kitara's arrival.  He didn't stop to wonder how he knew what kind of wood it was, or if it had any meaning beyond the obvious, although a whisper in his mind said it did.  Kitara emerged from the shadows.

          "You have learned much, Paul Ironhorse," she said, stopping outside the circle of stones.  "But you cannot hide from me.  Do not fear me, human.  I am, your friend."

          "You are not permitted to enter this space," Ironhorse said softly, then repeated it in Cherokee.  He saw the glowing eyes watching the exchange from the blackness of the forest.  His grandfather would call them spirit guides.  He hoped they would bring him the power he needed to force the Synth away.

          Kitara glanced down at the short wall, then back up at Ironhorse.  "This barrier cannot keep me out, Paul Ironhorse."

          "Wanna bet?"

          The Synth cocked her head to one side and stepped closer, pausing in front of the bear skull marking the western point of the circle.  She took a step back when an angry roar rolled out of the empty eye sockets, echoing over the land like thunder.  A large grizzly stepped free of the old bone, blocking the Synth's path.

          Kitara met Ironhorse's intense black gaze.

          "That is impossible.  There was no wildlife in the circle."

          "Says you," Ironhorse challenged, his hand slipping to the handle of his battle baton.  "There's more here than you'll ever know, and you are not permitted here.  Go.  Now."

          Kitara walked along the wall to the southern point.  A sharp snarl stopped her, and she was forced on by the snarling wolf that stepped free of its skull.

          She continued on around the circle, dropping into a defensive stance in the east against the screeching eagle's talons that threatened her face.  Hurrying past the bird, she gave the small skull on the rock a last questioning look before reaching the northern point.

          A loud snort warned her that this beast was even bigger than its kin.  She took a step toward the circle and a large white buffalo charged free of the skull bone, keeping her at a respectful distance.  She dropped into her attack position and the animal lowered its head, pawing the ground and throwing dirt up and over the stone wall.  She stepped further away, finally stopping in front of the bear skull again.

          She glared at Ironhorse and demanded, "Yield to me!"

          "No," Paul snarled.  "You have no power over me here.  You cannot enter my thoughts."

          Kitara considered his words, calculating the resolve in his obsidian eyes.  She settled into a relaxed posture.  "I will wait, human.  You will grow tired.  I will not."

          She had seen his weakness, and it was true.  The fire was already burning lower.  If he didn't force her out soon, he'd be too weak.  This was still new to him, and he wasn't at all sure he could do it.  Fear nipped at the edges of his resolve.

          He blinked and the Synth's image shimmered and for a moment her saw her in a different form.  The Raven.

          + The spirit of the Raven is watching. +

Ironhorse glanced around.  + Joseph? +

          + Call, and the spirits will come. +

          "Grandfather?"

          "Who do you address, Human?  Your deity?  Myths are no use to you.  Yield to me."

          Ironhorse looked down at his hand, finding his fingers curled tightly around a prayer stick.  It wasn't Joseph Lonetree's or his grandfather's, but he knew what to do with it.

          He smiled, the black buffalo horn curving out of the oak staff reflected the lightning still flashing overhead.  He shook the stick, the grizzly claws making a ticking sound against the wood.  The eagle feathers danced on a length of leather and the wind picked up, whistling through the evergreens.  A swatch of wolf fur held the claws in place below the horn, another band of the fur resting just above his hand.  It was soft and warm.

          He knew what he had to do.

          Raising the stick above his head, Ironhorse shook it again.  Lightning fissured the dark skies, dancing like St. Elmo's fire above the trees.  "You will leave," he said.  "Now."

          Kitara looked up.

          Ironhorse stomped his moccasin-clad foot and the ground trembled.  The vague outlines of the four animals guarding the circle swirled out of the fog curling through the trees, their cries competing with the thunder to force her away.  Lightning flashed, striking the ground near the Synth.  She looked back at Ironhorse.

          He held the prayer stick in both hands and concentrated on forcing Kitara out of his mind.  Nothing else mattered.  Nothing existed but he and the android.  Nothing could interfere.  Nothing else mattered…

          A blinding flash forced Ironhorse to close his eyes and the deafening crack of thunder that followed knocked him off his feet.  He felt himself falling, the stick slipping out of his fingers as the dancing colors sucked him away.

          His last thought was a humble, "Oh, shit."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          A high-pitched whine apprehended Blackwood's attention and concern.  He turned in time to see Paul slump bonelessly to the floor a moment before Kitara listed to one side and fell stiffly against the wall.

          Ironhorse's eyes were closed, Kitara's open and unblinking, the expression on her face an odd combination of amazement and ecstasy that scared Blackwood.  He scrambled for Paul while Keleah walked to her commander's side and questioned Kitara in their native language.  There was no reply.

          "What happened?" Harrison demanded, carefully scooping Ironhorse up to cradle him in his arms.  The soldier's limp body was warm to the touch, like he was running a fever, but he wasn't flushed or sweating.

"I do not know," Keleah said, reaching out to press several points on the android's body.  "He appears to have overloaded Kitara's circuits."

          Harrison's head snapped up, his arms tightening around Paul.  "You mean he destroyed her?"

          "No," Keleah said, maneuvering Kitara to the bed, then manipulating several more points to force her to sit.  "Kitara cannot process the information.  It has blocked her circuits and caused a shutdown.  She will regain full function in five to six Earth hours."

          "Then we have to go.  Now.  I—"

          "I will not permit you to disassemble Kitara, Harrison Blackwood."

          "How—?"

          "It was strong in your thoughts.  I cannot permit it."

          "You saw what she did to him," Harrison argued, glancing down at the dark head lolling limply against his shoulder.  There was something impossibly child©like and vulnerable in the peaceful expression and disheveled black hair.

          "Yes," Keleah said softly.  "It was wrong.  Kitara did not know."

          Harrison was ready to argue the point further, but the sudden explosion that lifted the motel door off its hinges and slammed it against the far wall stalled the words in his throat.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Norton sat in front of the Cray, staring intently at a point three inches in front of the screen.  A graphic alien warship rounded the corner of the quiet neighborhood street showing on the monitor.  The hacker blinked, and the warship destroyed his defensive position without Drake having fired a shot.  "Game Over" flashed across the screen.

          "Yeah, it is," he said, reaching for the keyboard.

          Music filled the basement and the screen shifted.  Norton's full attention focused on the information scrolling across several windows as the Cray triangulated the latest alien transmission.

          "Come on, come on," he said softly.

          Suzanne rushed into the basement from upstairs to join him.  "What?"

          "Don't know yet," he said.  "A transmission… somewhere in… California…"

          Suzanne folded her arms over her chest and stared at the screen – her best Harrison Blackwood impersonation.

          "Northern California…" Drake added.  "I don't like the sound of that."

          "Tell me about it."

          "There," Norton said, typing across the keys.  "The transmission originated just outside San Leandro."  He looked up.  "Hey, that's about ten, maybe fifteen minutes from the fairgrounds!"

Suzanne stepped up to the phone and scooped it up.  "Sergeant Derriman?  We have transmissions.  San Leandro…  Yes.  We'll be ready in five."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Keleah stepped away from Kitara, moving past Harrison and the unconscious Ironhorse and taking up a defensive position as the blended aliens burst into the room.  Her battle hum sprang to life.

          Harrison scrambled for the far side of the bed, dragging Ironhorse with him, hoping that something between them and the attacking aliens was better than nothing.

          He heard Keleah firing her weapons and the answering death screams from the aliens.  He wasn't sorry.  But if she failed…

          Reaching down, Harrison slipped the battle baton free of its sheath on Paul's web belt.  He glanced briefly at the M9 resting in the holster, but couldn't bring himself to take it.

          Around him the sounds of battle continued, and Harrison pulled Paul further into the corner, trying to shield his friend's body as best he could and still watch for the aliens.  Keleah's hum rose and fell.  The aliens continued to come, two crashing through the windows across the room.  Harrison gripped the large knife tightly and dared a peek over the side of the bed.

          Kitara still sat where Keleah had positioned her.  The blonde synth shifted lithely from position to position, her energy bolts making short work of the Mortaxans.  Occasionally she ducked and changed the focus of her attack when one of the aliens leveled an odd looking weapon in her direction.  He ducked back down.

          Suddenly the room fell silent.  Harrison looked up over the bed.  The battle seemed to have lasted for hours, but when he glanced at the blinking digital clock only three minutes had passed.  In the distance he could hear sirens and knew the authorities were on the way.

          "We must go," Keleah said.

          "Where?" Blackwood demanded, leaning Ironhorse in the corner and standing nervously.

          The Synth considered that question, obviously having her own difficulties reaching a decision.

          "The Cottage," Harrison said at last.

          Keleah's head tilted to the side.  "That would be an unacceptable risk."

          She sounded like Ironhorse.  "There's no place else to go.  The soldiers will protect us from the aliens and you'll have to make sure she leaves us alone," he told her, nodding at Kitara.

          "Kitara will be no danger to you, but those from Mortax can find me with their scanner.  I cannot stay with you long.  I cannot endanger you."  She stepped up to her commander and opened a panel on Kitara's back.  In a few moments she was done and nodded toward the door.  "We will go.  Then I will decide what to do."

Harrison lifted Paul into his arms.  It was a struggle; the colonel was heavier than he appeared, but Blackwood managed to carry him out to the parking lot.  Keleah chose a car, pulled the doors open and maneuvered Kitara into the passenger's seat.  Harrison laid Paul in the back seat and slid in after him.

          "You know how to drive?" he asked when Keleah sat behind the wheel.

          "No," she said, meeting the scientist's concerned expression in the rearview mirror.  "But your colonel does."

          Reaching out, she cupped her hand over the ignition and a brief hum filled in the car before the motor turned over.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          "Stay back, please," Stavrakos said, blocking Suzanne and Norton from getting any closer to the Sleepy Tyme Motel.  "I haven't gotten an all-clear yet."

          Suzanne nodded and took a step back, but Norton stayed right where he was – two inches off the sergeant's polished boots.

          Coleman trotted up, Uzi slung over her shoulder on its strap.  She nodded to Stavrakos.  "It's clear.  Come with me, please," she said to Norton and Suzanne, leading the way back to the ramshackle room.

          Three more of the Omegans exited as Coleman and Suzanne entered.  Norton opted to remain in the doorway.  Given the large number of goo puddles scattered across the faded carpet, he was sure he couldn't avoid running Gertrude through at least some of them.

          "There's no sign of them," Coleman said, letting Suzanne wander around the battle site.  "The manager said that the Colonel and Dr. Blackwood were here with two women.  About two hours later three vans arrived.  Someone blew the door open and, as he says, 'an army poured into the room.'  Given the number of remains we counted I'd guess fifteen to eighteen aliens.  It looks like the Synths were able to hold their own."

          "Any idea where they went?" Norton asked.

          "The manager said that after the commotion all four of them left – stole a car."

          "Paul stole a car?" Suzanne repeated.

          Coleman looked uncomfortable, but continued.  "From his description it sounds like the Colonel was carried out by Dr. Blackwood.  And Kitara might have been injured.  The second Synth took the car."

          Suzanne turned back to look at Norton.

          "We have people at the fairgrounds, and a unit at the original landing site.  We'll find them," Coleman said, the last coming out as a determined growl.

          "The Cottage?" Suzanne asked.

          Drake nodded.  "Be my guess."

          "Why?" Coleman asked.

          Suzanne looked back at the sergeant.  "I don't know, but there really isn't anyplace else for them to go."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Derriman dismissed the guard after Blackwood and the unconscious colonel passed the radiation and heat sensor check.  He didn't like the idea of hosting two androids at the Cottage, but there was nothing he could do about it.

          "We're taking Paul to the house," Harrison said, his gaze locking on the senior sergeant's and daring him to challenge the remark.

          "Yes, sir, and I'm comin' along."

          Blackwood nodded and gratefully accepted the help.  Carrying Ironhorse into the Cottage, they laid him on one of the sofas in the living room.  Harrison left Derriman watching the two Synths and headed for the colonel's room, with a hurried, "I'll be right back."

          Harrison paused just inside the door.  It always struck him just how complicated Paul Ironhorse really was whenever he entered the man's private space.  Unlike the colonel's office, which while comfortable and revealing, gave little away about the deeper nature of the man, the bedroom was another case altogether.

          The dark wood furniture was deep and rich and the pieces sparse, but the room did not look barren.  The objects carefully positioned across their surfaces and the various photographs and items hanging on the walls were more revealing.  They told the story of a man who had known life and death at their pinnacles, a man who walked in many different worlds.

          Harrison carefully lifted the woven Indian blanket from the foot of the double bed and left, closing the door behind him.

          Back in the living room, he found Keleah working over Kitara while Derriman sat with Ironhorse.  The older sergeant looked worried and distrustful of the android.

          "Any change?" Harrison asked, spreading the blanket over Paul.

          Derriman shook his head.  "Doctor, with these two here…  Don't you think we should get an evacuation planned?"

          Blackwood knew the sergeant's concerns were valid, but he didn't think the Synths were going to stay long enough to pose a danger with respect to the Mortaxans.  "Plan, and get ready, but we don't go anywhere until I say so."

          Derriman nodded.  "I'd feel better if someone stayed here with you and the Colonel," he said, glancing briefly at the two androids.

          Blackwood nodded.  "Fine by me, Sergeant, just tell them to stay out of the way unless there's trouble."

          "I'll send Alverez in," Derriman said, heading for the phone.  When the corporal arrived, he left to make the necessary arrangements and beef up security, just in case.

          Harrison made Paul as comfortable as possible.  There didn't appear to be anything wrong with him, physically, but God only knew what Kitara had done to his mind.

"What are you doing?" he asked Keleah, looking up from the relaxed, if slightly perplexed expression on Ironhorse's face.

          "Deactivating Kitara.  There is no longer a threat to Colonel Ironhorse."

          "You can do that?"

          Keleah looked over at Harrison.  "It is not something I thought I could do.  I do it.  Therefore, I can."

          Blackwood almost smiled.  "What are you called?  She's Kitara, you're…?"

          "Keleah," she replied.

          "Thank you, Keleah, for helping us."

          Before the Synth could respond, Suzanne and Norton burst through the front door and headed straight for the living room.

          Harrison scooped Suzanne into a tight hug, then shook hands with Norton and gave him a hearty slap on the back.

          "It's good to see you, Doc," Drake said, watching Suzanne drop down next to the couch to check Ironhorse.  "How's the big guy?"

          "I don't know—"  The three words were edged with pain and desperation.  While Harrison was on his own he'd managed to hold it together.  Paul would have expected no less, but now, back in the Cottage, back with Suzanne and Norton and Omega…  Harrison stopped, his words tangling in his throat.  He shook his head and shrugged.

          Suzanne looked up.  "Did she…?"

          Harrison repeated the two gestures.  "I don't know."

          The microbiologist stood and turned, watching Keleah work over Kitara.  "We ought to dismantle that… _thing_."

          Keleah's head came up.  "Do not be angry, Suzanne.  Kitara is no threat to you or Colonel Ironhorse."

          "The aliens get her?" Norton asked, rolling closer to the two androids.  If he could just get a good look at the circuitry…

          "No.  Kitara tried to… probe, Paul," Harrison said softly.  "I don't know what happened.  He collapsed like he is now and she ended up like that."

          "He prevented Kitara from accessing the information she sought.  He overloaded her circuits," Keleah stated.

          Suzanne couldn't stop the half-feral smile that curled her lips.  "Good."

          "But he hasn't come to," Harrison added.

          Suzanne turned back, looking down at Ironhorse.  "We could call Uncle Hank.  Maybe he could send Rachael, or Dr. Poe?"

          Harrison shook his head.  "I don't think they can help."

          "We have to try," she argued.

          "He came through before," Norton added.  "He'll make it again."

          Keleah studied Ironhorse's energy aura for a moment.  "He is lost in a space he created," she said, stepping away from Kitara for the first time.

          "Lost?" Norton asked.

Harrison stepped across to stand next to the Synth.  "You know where he is?"

          Keleah's head cocked to the side.  "No.  To stop Kitara's probe he created a space outside himself.  It is… a buffer… Kitara could not control this space.  The attempt overloaded her circuits and caused the shutdown."

          "Can you find this buffer space?" Harrison asked, reaching out to grip the android's shoulders.

          "I cannot."

          "Then we've lost him," Suzanne said quietly.  "Unless he finds his own way back."

          "Why can't you?" Harrison demanded.

          "It would be no different than Kitara's action.  It would be wrong."

          "Hey, she started it," Norton argued.  "And now you're sayin' you can do whatever it is you do and find him, but you won't because doin' it's wrong, but Kitara doin' it was what created the problem in the first place?"

          "Ex-plain."

          Harrison felt the corners of him mouth tug upward.  He knew what Norton was saying, even if Keleah didn't.  He turned back to the Synth.  "Keleah, if you can get inside Paul's mind and help him find his way back, that's not wrong."

          "Entering a human's thoughts uninvited is wrong.  I saw that clearly in your thoughts, Harrison Blackwood.  He cannot give me permission."

          "Because he's lost.  If the situation was reversed, I know Paul would tell you to go in and find me.  _I_ give you permission to do it.  You have Ironhorse's thoughts, you know what I'm saying is true."

          "I must consider," the Synth said and paced off.

          Harrison had done his best.  He walked over to stand next to Suzanne at the couch.  Norton rolled over to join them.

          Keleah returned to the threesome.  "What is that?"

          "What?" Suzanne asked, her gaze skipping over herself and the others.

          "This energy emanation… this… e-motion you are experiencing," she clarified.

          "Uh, fear?" Norton asked.

          "Concern.  Worry," Suzanne added.

          Keleah's head tilted slightly.  "No.  I recognize the patterns for fear and worry.  There is another.  Stronger…"

          "Love," Harrison said softly.  "It's called love."

          "Tell me more about this love."

          "I can't.  It can't be explained," Harrison said quietly.

          "It will stop if he is lost?"

          "No, but it will never be the same," Harrison explained.

          She considered, then nodded once.  "I will try."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Ironhorse staggered through the howling storm, trying to find shelter.  Above him the sky ripped and cried, lightning snapping whip-like to strike the tree tops.  These spirits were a different bunch.  Thunder rumbled, vibrating through the ground and nearly shaking the soldier off his feet.

          _Great_ , he thought.  _Where the hell am I?_

          The last thing he remembered was Kitara…  He'd had a prayer stick and…

          He called on the spirits to help him force Kitara out of his mind, but he'd lost control and now he was… lost.

 _I knew I shouldn't have played around with this stuff_ , he chided himself.  But it had worked, and it had felt… right.

          + Grandfather? + he called silently.

          There was no reply.

          He stopped, taking shelter near a large felled pine.  There was no rain, only lightning, and dark shadows clinging forebodingly to the forest around him.  Now and then the sounds of animals echoed out of the trees, threatening and close.

          This was _not_ his safe place.

          If he could find the prayer stick, or the circle, maybe he could get back to where he was supposed to be…

          _Which is?_ he asked himself.

          _Hell if I know…_

_Joseph made this look easy…_

          + You must be one with the spirits. +

          + Joseph? +

          + Embrace the power.  It belongs to you. +

          The wind picked up and Ironhorse found himself being pelted by rocks, sticks and other debris.  He reached out, clinging to the rough tree trunk, pine cones and larger rocks beating painfully against his back.  He ducked his head to protect himself, and tried to inch further under the cover of the trunk, but there wasn't enough room.

          A loud growl echoed over the thunder.  Squinting to keep the grit out of his eyes, Paul scanned the shadows, trying to locate the animal that had made the noise.  With a growing sense of panic, he watched a large grizzly emerge from the trees.  The bear rose, padding forward on its hind feet.

          "Oh, shit."

          A wolf trotted out to join the bear, its yellow eyes regarding Ironhorse intently.

          "Nice wolf?"

          A loud snort caused Paul to whirl.  A white buffalo stood behind him.  It pawed the earth once, its huge head shaking from side to side.

          "Mother fuck."

          An eagle's cry sounded as the bird swooped down and settled on the log next to Ironhorse.  The soldier looked down at the long talons and swallowed hard.  These were supposed to be his spirit guides – they were supposed to be his friends.

          "Uh, listen, guys—"

          A distant whinny wrapped around him, warm and comforting, and Ironhorse held his breath, waiting to see what happened next.  Before his chest started to burn, a large, shining blue-black mare galloped into the small clearing, a black-spotted white owl riding on the horse's back.

          The mare stopped, rearing.  Obsidian hooves lashed out above Paul's head and he ducked.

          The other animals watched, unconcerned.

          With a snort and shake of her head the mare galloped off, disappearing into the trees, the owl unruffled by the show.

          + Remember, grandson, life is a journey.  There are many beginnings and many ends.  Call on the spirits.  Own them, and they will aid you.  Trust your inner voice.  It cannot lie. +

          + Grandfather?! +

          The wind whistled louder, and Paul forced himself to stand.  The storm raged on.  The animals were gone, the blonde Synth standing in their place.

          And he had nowhere to run.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Keleah moved to stand next to the couch.  With a dancer's grace, she sat down on the narrow space next to Ironhorse and reached out to touch his forehead with her fingers.

          She stopped, looking up at Blackwood.  "And if he does not listen to me?"

          "He has to," Harrison said, his voice rough.  "We can't lose him."

          She ducked her head, the sudden wave of emotion radiating from Blackwood and the others nearly overwhelming her.  It was a peculiar kind of pain, one she did not want to continue.

          She pressed her fingers against Ironhorse's forehead.  He sucked in a sharp breath, and Keleah closed her eyes.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Keleah stepped purposefully through the woods, stopping when she reached Ironhorse.

          "Paul Ironhorse, you must come with me," she said.

          "No!" was the immediate reply as the soldier dropped into a defensive crouch.  "I won't yield to you."

          "I do not ask you to yield.  I will help you."

          "You want to pry into my mind?  Take information?  Leave commands?"

          "No.  It is wrong.  Kitara was wrong."

          "I won't go with you," he snarled.  "Leave me alone."

          "But you must.  They love you."

          "Who?"

          "Harrison.  Suzanne.  Norton."

          That captured Ironhorse's attention.  His eyes narrowed as he studied the Second.  "Who are you?"

          "I am Keleah.  Come with me."

          "Where?"

          Keleah looked confused.  She blinked, obviously searching her data.  Finally, her head came up and she met Ironhorse's gaze.  "I do not know.  This is your making."

The perplexed, concerned expression on the Synth's face helped push the fear back, and Paul eased out of the crouch.

          It was his space?

          _I guess it is_ , he thought, _but I sure as hell don't recognize it._

          The storm crashed around them, but the oppressive foreboding was gone.  If he concentrated he could see the clouds parting.  The wind died down.

          "Are you lost?" she asked.

          The immediate temptation was to say no, but he swallowed that.  "Uh, I think so."

          Keleah's head cocked to one side.  "Oh."

          That's exactly how I feel, he thought.  Glancing over his shoulder at the brightening woods, he knew he had to make a decision.  Trust her, or run.

          He met Keleah's bright green eyes.  She certainly didn't look like Kitara.  She was light, Kitara shadow.  The look was… innocent, like a child.  But she was no child.  She was an android.  A machine sent from another planet.  A planet whose inhabitants wanted to use them like cattle.

          "I will not betray you, Paul Ironhorse."

          The black eyebrows climbed.  "You read my thoughts?"

          "Everything here is thought."

          That tugged a whisper of a smile from the soldier.  "I forgot that."  He took a deep breath and let it out slowly.  It felt right to trust her, his inner voice said so…

          "Okay, come on.  Let's see if we can find my medicine circle."

          "You know where it is," Keleah said.  "You created it."

          Ironhorse blinked.  He was standing in the center of the circle.  "Yeah, I guess I do…"

          "May I enter?"

          He nodded, watching as she stepped over the short stone wall and joined him near the fire.  It snapped lively, the flames dancing.  "Why are you helping us?"

          Keleah stared into the flames.  "I do not know.  What the Masters plan is wrong.  What Kitara did for the Masters was wrong."  Her head came up, the green eyes imploring.  "Why are these things wrong?  What is love?"

          That broke the lopsided grin free.  "Keleah, philosophers and poets have been haggling over what love means since the beginning.  I don't have an answer.  As for why this is wrong…  I guess that's—"

          "May I share your thoughts?" she asked.  "I will only observe.  It is the best way for me to take in new data."

          A cold chill ran down his spin, but he felt no malice in the Synth's aura.  He nodded once, slowly.

          "Thank you," she said.  Her hand came up carefully, gently touching his forehead.

          Ironhorse felt the connection as it established itself.   Unlike Kitara's probe, the link with Keleah was… gentle, he decided, ephemeral in its delicacy.

\+ Tell me why what we have done is wrong.  I want to understand. +

          The feelings of violation and betrayal rose in Ironhorse's mind, then the fear and hatred that knowing the real intentions of the Qar'to had generated.  The pain of the debriefing and its aftermath, the healing.

          He let his mind drift, moving from topic to topic, emotion to emotion in a random fashion.  He could feel Keleah there with him, observing, but never interfering.  When the feelings and images came to an end he found himself floating above the circle and his body.

          Keleah and he stood face to face, their fingers touching each other's foreheads.  The storm had passed and the sun streaked through the breaking clouds.  The fire burned high.

          + I will teach you. +

          He looked to his left and saw Keleah floating next to him.  That surprised him.  She had a soul?

          + Teach me? +

          + I will show you how we follow the energy paths into your mind.  No Synth will be able to probe you again unless you permit it. +

          There was an instant swirl of color and disorientating sensations, but he knew in that instant how it had been done, and that it never could be again.  The knowledge resonated with his own work and his safe place.  It was a good feeling.

          + Will you show me love? +

          Paul smiled.  How to do that…?  He felt the colors flow together and part and he knew.  "Yes.  I will show you my family… all of them."

          He let his thoughts carry them into the emotion.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Keleah stood and stepped back from the couch.  Harrison, Suzanne, and Norton inched closer.  Ironhorse's eyes blinked open and his head turned, the glistening obsidian eyes searching out the other Project members.  Harrison stepped forward, helping Ironhorse up so he was sitting.

          "Paul, are you all right?"

          The colonel nodded.  "I think so."

          He stood, and Harrison pulled him into a tight hug.  When he was released, Suzanne took the astrophysicist's place.

          "Hey, my turn," Norton said.

          Suzanne stepped back, wiping the tears off her cheeks.  Ironhorse grinned at Norton and took the proffered hand, giving it a firm squeeze and shake.

          "Way to go, big guy."

          Harrison looked to Keleah, who was watching them with a indecipherable expression.  "Anything wrong?"

          "No, Harrison Blackwood.  Nothing is wrong, but we must do two more things before the danger is truly past."

          "What?" Ironhorse asked.

"We must return Kitara to the landing site so she will return to Qar'to."

          "And?" Norton asked.

          "You must deactivate me so those from planet Mortax cannot locate me, and—"

          "Deactivate you?" Harrison almost gasped.  "Keleah, no.  There's so much we have to talk about.  So much we can teach each other."

          "It is so," she agreed.  "But I am a danger to you.  As long as I am active I can be tracked.  And…"  She paused, looking almost curious.  "I do not know if the Masters can access me.  If they can, I would be a danger to you.  I cannot bring harm to you, or other humans."

          Ironhorse's teeth ground.  She was right.  But he'd rather have the Synth on their side and killing the aliens.  If she could hunt the Advocates down…  But the bottom line was saving lives.  The risk was too great.  He had to trust her.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          The chopper flight to the Nevada site was accomplished easily with Omega's help.  The weather was similar to when the Synths had arrived, and lightning strobbed across the nearby mountains.

          Keleah manipulated Kitara along to the exact spot.  Opening a panel on the android's back, the Second reached in and removed several small pieces of equipment.

          "What are you doing?" Harrison asked.

          "I am removing the information collected from this mission.  She will return with no memory of what has happened to her.  The Masters will not know what has occurred."

          "Will they send her back?" Suzanne asked.

          Keleah thought for a moment.  "Perhaps, but the folds in space we must use will not fold back for twenty-two Earth months."

          "That's…"  Harrison trailed off, calculating.  "February of 1994."

          "Yes," Keleah replied.  "Then Kitara will come again."

          "That'll be an invasion, won't it," Ironhorse asked.

          "Possible.  The Masters will know you defeated Kitara.  They will think I was de-stroyed."

          "Will you help us when they come?" Harrison asked, shrugging deeper into his jacket as the rain began to fall.

          "Yes."

          Keleah left Kitara standing on the short grassy knoll and led the Project members several yards away.  In less than a minute a swirling disk of undulating colors sprang into existence above Kitara.  The Synth's long black hair blew wildly in the gusting wind.  A flash of light struck the ground, then blinked out.  Kitara and the disk were gone.  Thunder rumbled in the distance and the rain fell harder.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          "You're sure about this?" Harrison asked Keleah.  Around them in the comfortable office at the private Hamlin Foundation, the other Project members waited for her answer.

          "Yes.  It is not death as you know it.  I will… sleep."

          "Sort of like Snow White, huh?" Norton asked.

          The blonde head tilted to the side in a familiar gesture of confusion.  "Snow is white, is it not?"

          Harrison grinned.  "Never mind, it's a reference to a cultural myth."

          Keleah nodded.  "I would like to know more when I am reactivated."

          Harrison nodded to Dr. Cedar Ridge, director of the high-powered research foundation.  "I'm sure you'll be in excellent hands here with Dr. Ridge."

          Keleah regarded the woman for a moment.  "Yes, that is true."  She looked to each of the Project members in turn.  "I hope to see you again…  To victory."

          "To victory," Paul said somberly, nodding to Dr. Ridge.

          Cedar reached out and removed the small piece of circuitry that shut the Sythn down.  Keleah's eyes closed and she froze.

          "Why do I feel like we just killed her," Suzanne asked quietly.

          "Think positive," Harrison countered, swallowing the lump in his throat.  "She's just sleeping."

          "We'll take good care of her," Cedar said.  "And she'll be here, if you need her."

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          Rising from his two hour nap, Harrison headed downstairs to finish his report to General Wilson.  It required a short detour through the kitchen so he could pick up the remainder of his veggies to sustain him.  Tray in hand, he started for his office.

          If he didn't finish the report soon, Ironhorse would use him on the firing range… as a target.  Why he had to turn in a report after Paul had already written one, he couldn't fathom.  It was just another example to be added to his endless mental list detailing military stupidities.

          Entering the dark office, Harrison immediately sensed a wrongness.  No, not wrong, he corrected.  Out of place?

          Sliding the tray onto his desk, he reached for the Nautilus shell lamp.

          "Wait," Ironhorse's voice echoed out of the darkness.

          "Paul, are you all right?"

          "Fine."

          "You sure?" he asked, easing around the desk to find his chair and sit.

          A ghostly whisper asked, "Do you think we killed her?"

          "I don't know," was Blackwood's equally soft reply.  "I hope not.  We have too much to learn from her.  If we did…"

          "She knew the risks."

          "I hope you're right.  We're going to need her help when Kitara comes back."

The two men sat in silence, Harrison's eyes slowly adjusting to the dim light.  He could just see Ironhorse sitting on the small sofa, leaning into the corner.  His curiosity finally cracked under the weight of the silence. "Paul, are you sure you're all right?"

          "I wasn't afraid," he replied softly.

          "Excuse me?"

          "When Keleah came for me.  I wasn't afraid.  It was like I knew her.  Like I'd known her a long time…  Kitara scared the shit out of me."

          Harrison shook his head.  "I don't believe that, Colonel.  If that were true, you'd never have been able to do what you did.  And I can't explain it, but I trusted Keleah, too."

          "She had a soul."

          Harrison looked up.  "A soul?"  He hadn't considered that, but how?  Still…  "I think you're right."

          "I saw it."

          "You saw her soul?"

          "While I was in my medicine circle…"

          "Medicine circle?" Blackwood asked, leaning forward.  Here was an opportunity for some further colonel-unraveling…

          "She showed me how to stop the Synths from probing my thoughts.  We were, floating above our bodies… our souls were…  It was… weird.  That's what it was… weird."

          "It was a valuable gift," Harrison said, squinting and trying to make out Ironhorse's expression in the darkness.

          "Yes."

          Harrison leaned back, picking his words carefully.  "Paul, we're all working on the mental exercises Dr. Ridge suggested, and I know you're getting in touch with your…"

          "Heritage?"

          "Heritage, yes, but more than that, your… spiritual side."

          Ironhorse shifted on the sofa.  "Yes."

          Harrison stood and walked around to lean back against the front of his desk.  "This was a real step forward for you, wasn't it."

          There was a long pause.  "Yes.  I think so."

          "And?"

          "It scares me, Harrison."

          Reaching out, Blackwood tugged the lamp on, meeting the obsidian gaze across the room.  "And?"

          The eyes flickered down and the scientist allowed the shadow of a smile to creep onto his lips.  There were times their hard-boiled Army officer looked very much like a lost and confused Cherokee teenager.  The head finally lifted and he met Harrison's intense blue stare.

          "Sometimes I don't know if I can walk both paths."

          "Is that a decision you can make?" Harrison asked, pushing up so he was sitting on the desktop.

"I don't know," was the honest, if somewhat frustrated reply.  "Maybe not."  There was a sharp sigh.  "It feels like everything I know is slipping away."

          "Changing."

          "Out of control."

          "So?"

          He huffed.  "I don't like the feeling."

          "Who does?"

          "Damn it, Harrison, I'm a soldier.  I've been a soldier most of my life.  I can't change that.  I'm not like my grandfather, or Joseph Lonetree."

          "No one's asking you to be, Paul."  Pushing off the desk, Harrison paced across the office, stopping in front of the chalkboard.  "But if something works, why not use it?"

          Ironhorse scowled and shook his head.

          "I know what you're feeling."  He watched the colonel's eyebrows climb.  "I do.  It's like you're running on a razor's edge… dodging striking snakes… trying to juggle peeled peaches."

          Ironhorse laughed, then nodded.  "All right, that's an accurate, if somewhat fanciful picture."  He paused.  "So, how do you do it?"

          Blackwood shrugged.  "I don't look down."

          The colonel stood.  "It's my job to look down, Harrison.  I know you're right.  This kind of stuff can help us.  I know that, too.  But, it's not that simple."

          "I know it's not simple."  He walked back, snagging the tray off the desk, then walked over and flopped down on the couch.  He extended the selection of green leafies to the colonel.

          "I don't graze, Harrison."

          "You are what you eat…"  He took a carrot stick and munched.  "Think of it like this, Paul… you're just learning to fight on a new battlefield, with new tactics and strategies."

          "Not bad, Doctor."

          Harrison grinned around his carrot.  "You're welcome.  Now, let's talk about me writing this report…"

  


* * *

[1]  See "De-Briefing," originally in _Green Floating Weirdness #2._

[2]  See the Mind Games series.  Four stories by Gillian Holt dealing with psychics and psychic abilities.  "Compliments of the Night Hawk," "An Exercise of Mind," "Sorcerers Apprentice," and "On Campus Maneuvers." 


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